What do we do when the internet fails us

My favorite is the one above

So the internet at work is down. Two hours into the work day, it stopped. Four hours later we learned it wasn’t going to come back on for the rest of the working day. Still, no one told us we could leave, so here were most people, hanging out, catching up, taking walks outside, where spring has started showing the promise of summer. I could complain about the day I lost but I’d rather think of it as a day I got unexpectedly. It is (and is not in some ways) surprising how crippling it is to not have internet access. It’s been slim pickings for writing. I don’t have coherent long-form thoughts around any one topic. Instead my mind flits from mental space to physical space and back and forth and so we go on. Life is busy, busy enough I would say, but not the pace of busy I am used to. This is interesting; I had some idea about how “on” I always was but until recently I hadn’t been able to quantify the hours it consumed. On a lighter day, I did so many things I was appalled, because I seem to be deeply invested in doing, much more so than I had thought.

One of my absolute favorites

Perhaps part of the writing stems from the no news is good news. Things are carrying along, hobbling in some places and steady sailing in others. My mother visited for a few months and that was the most harmony we have ever had under one roof. I learn new things and I forget old ones. I recently bought art, which for me was a momentous decision. I even purchased the frames and framed it myself; something I had not thought possible for a while. It was far simpler than I thought it would be (although the picture on the left will tell you that it is best to order art in standard sizes). The instant pot on the other hand; not so much. My first trial created a pot of soaked, half-cooked beans, with the tomatoes and onions floating around miserably. It sits there, the words Off written in red and glaring at me. Oh well, you win some and lose some. And in the end does it even matter?

The worst coffee I ever had (in Boston)

I think of all the things I think about and want to write about. I want to write about rituals and routines; about doing puzzles; about fashion and clothes and jewelry; about the barely five books I have read this year and how I may not be a reader anymore. I think about the shows that keep me engrossed: particularly the Scandinavian and British crime shows, set against bleak landscapes with lives that are bleaker still. I could also write a little bit about my trip to Boston, but the things that made it the most fun had nothing to do with Boston (Taboo game night and catching up with two friends from my past lives).

I could also write about my weight and how it has been on a steady rise since the last two years but I missed that for the first year because in my head it wasn’t an option. I keep falling off and getting back on the wagon that is regular exercising. Of late I have started experimenting with intermittent fasting. It was hard in the beginning but now I find that I am just not as hungry. A lot of my hunger was really boredom disguised, well disguised as hunger. Oh well. I find that I have more energy – I still can’t wake up in the mornings but that is less tiredness and a lot more sleep cycle that can’t match the hours of the world. And on and on.

Here's me in a random vain moment

We watch a lot of shows. And a lot of plays. Some comedy shows although I have noticed that I find it easy to doze off during comedy that I do not enjoy. I discover that I have the same app twice on my home screen; removing one gives me a disproportionate sense of satisfaction. I cannot wait for summer, so I can feel light again. Winter becomes heavy; not unlike the coats and layers we have to wear.